


Kind of Woman That'll Haunt You

by yellowermine



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, Post 3x13, foxxay - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-16
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:23:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1212553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowermine/pseuds/yellowermine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cordelia is haunted by visions of Misty Day's personal Hell. She wants nothing more but to help her friend get free of that horrible place. But with no body to get back into, Misty's soul is destined to ascend to heaven. Or is it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 

Cordelia is sitting on a stool in what she believes is the science lab of a high school (not that she would know how a public school might look like, since Fiona Goode had always preferred homeschooling for her darling daughter). The room is of an hideous pale green, rows of onyx desks with shiny faucets fill the entire space. The walls are hung with black boards scribbled with scientific Latin names and every other surface is covered in jars (why are there so many jars?) encasing dead frogs suspended in formaldehyde solution.

The smell of chemical disinfectant is strong and it almost gets her lightheaded, the bright neon lights hanging from the ceiling making her newly acquired eyes prickle uncomfortably. The other tables in the room are occupied by teenagers clad in casual clothes and green rimmed lab goggles, all of them staring at her with condemnation and an hint of disappointment in their eyes. She looks down at her hands trying to understand the reason of their fixation and she realizes that she isn’t in her body anymore.

Her usually empty fingers (she used to wear Hank's ring, but that has gone straight down the toilet as soon as she _saw_ him screwing a redheaded woman that definitely wasn’t her) are now adorned with several rings, some are simple silver bands others are bigger and beautifully crafted with leafy designs or heavy stones. She turns them over, staring at the calloused skin on her palms; these are the hands of someone who's not afraid of manual work, someone who doesn’t care about getting dirt under her nails, someone who truly uses those hands as tools.

Cordelia's breath gets caught in her throat. She knows those hands, she's touched them, hold them in her own, seen them bring back to life creatures of all kinds, from plants to human beings. She has felt them pressed up against her chest, unmoving, as she clutched to Misty Day's soulless body a moment before it turned to ashes in her arms.

"Freak" she hears the harsh whisper of the boy sitting opposite her. She turns to him questioningly, but before she has the time to reply he looks away and yells for the teacher.

"Mr. Kringley! She did it again!" his voice is full of contempt and a little malice, so typical of the bullies of every age. Cordelia can feel anger burn at the pit of her stomach, how many times have her sister witches had to deal with this kind of treatment? How many of them had succumbed to the weight of social seclusion? How could she have been so blind? All these years, spent cowering in the high halls of her white walled Academy when she could have saved so many young lives from the claws of undeserving bigots.

"If you won't dissect a dead frog, then you will dissect a live one!"

The commanding voice is so near her ear that she jumps on her stool. A bearded man with a grey sleeveless sweater that would probably hurt auntie Myrtle sensibility, forces a scalpel in her hand and grips her wrist so tight that she can feel the tiny seashells on Misty's leather bracelet leaving marks on the skin under it. She tries to resist but he's so much stronger than her and when she finally gives in she realizes where she really is. Because on the desk before her, laying on a steel platter, there is a frog, his white belly up, twitching with life and she can only stare as her hand is forced down, the scalpel unsteady in her trembling fingers, until it stabs the creature and blood starts seeping out from the open wound on his stomach.

This is Misty Day's personal Hell. Trapped in a memory from which she cannot escape, because if there's a thing Cordelia knows about the swamp witch is that she cherished life above anything else, and Misty could never tear herself away from resurrecting an innocent creature, even if it might cost her an eternity of suffering.

Cordelia feels a wave of nausea hitting her, and the next moment she stops feeling altogether. She's no more trapped in Misty's body but she can see her, her pale face is wet with tears, her hands now bloodied as she hurriedly covers the poor animal's body and does the thing she does best: give life. The annoying kid doesn’t waste a moment and repeat the insult to Misty before calling for the teacher again. Cordelia watches as the scene repeats but this time Misty screams and cries agonized as she stabs the frog. And it is then that Cordelia realizes that Misty is aware of the passing of time, she's aware of the repeating act, she could stop it if she wanted it enough, just like the other witches of their Coven did before her, but she cannot help herself.

The need to repair the damage she's done to that innocuous creature is instinctual, far stronger than any conscious decision.

Cordelia wakes with Misty's name on her lips and tears streaming down her cheeks. She presses her hands on her face and let the sobs quake her body, because it's her fault if that beautiful soul is trapped there. She has wanted so strongly for Misty to be the new Supreme that she has overlooked her obvious limits. She has immolated her for her own capricious need to see her cruel mother replaced by someone pure and untainted at the head of their Coven.

"I'm so sorry, Misty."

As her broken voice fills the darkened room Cordelia swears to herself that she's going to research every book in the history of witchcraft till she finds a way to release Misty's soul from that horrendous timeless place. She carved her own eyes out to find her one time already, and she's not afraid to do it again if it will be necessary.

Queenie is preparing the materials for the telekinesis lesson she's about to teach in an hour when Cordelia barges in her room, her chocolate eyes full of intent and her hands packed with ancient books.

"I need your help." The supreme says curtly overlooking any greetings in her haste.

"Couldn’t you knock? I get that you're the Supreme now but I could've been naked in here." The younger witch is aware of how her brusque tone can be taken as disrespect, but she does it for Cordelia's own good. The range of powers that comes with the supremacy can sway even the more humble women, make them feel omnipotent, but Queenie has made it her job to keep Cordelia's feet on the ground. Hell knows she already has Fiona’s genes in her body, she doesn’t need to inherit her attitude too.

"You are right. I'm sorry, Queenie, but I haven't been sleeping well lately and-"

"Is this about Misty Day?" the voodoo witch interrupts because she knows that look on Cordelia's face. She's seen it once before when she was woken in the middle of the night by a crazed, freshly mutilated, headmistress ordering her to be escorted to a cemetery to save the blonde lady-Jesus.

"You've been dreaming of her, too?" the older woman asks, hope coloring her words.

"Well, I admit the whole tree hugger from the 70s thing she had going on was kinda cute, but I'm not really into that."

"Queenie" the face Cordelia makes, eyes wide and reddened cheeks, is worth the reprimand she gets. The blonde looks more like the easily flustered headmistress and less like the poker-faced Supreme of late.

"The books kinda gave it away, Cordelia." Queenie sighs and sits down on her bed as the Supreme makes herself at home and takes a seat by the desk.

"I believe I found a way to the place she's stuck at."

"Are you sure it's not that damn song you keep playing over and over when you're in the greenhouse that's getting to your head?"

Seriously, it’s starting to get kind of creepy. One of the students has even offered to buy her other music, but Cordelia gracefully declined saying that the song relaxed her.

"No, Queenie, I'm sure it's not some fantasy conjured up by my subconscious. I _know_ what Hell feels like, I've been there during the Descensum and somehow I managed to break into Misty's own version of it during my sleep. Maybe it's due to the fact that I tried to reach her before she disappeared, maybe the incantation I recited to her connected us in some way. All I know is that I need to get her out of there and you're going to help".

"Since you asked so nicely…" the voodoo witch replies sarcastically, her bitterness melting at the shy smile curving on the headmistress lips.

"Thank you, Queenie."

"Yeah, sure. Just chuck the books, we're going to do it my way. We meet in the greenhouse this evening. Bring some of Misty's fancy scarves"

Queenie is sure Cordelia has at least a dozen of Misty crocheted shawls sitting in her drawer. In the evenings after dinner sometimes she wears one as she sits on the stairs outside and watches her black cat chase after the grasshoppers in the garden.

"They're shawls." Queenie hears the headmistress correct her quietly but decides to ignore her with a roll of her eyes. Really, tough, Cordelia has had a humongous girl crush on Misty Day since she's laid eyes(or hands - whatever) on the swamp witch. Everyone and their mothers could see it.

"Oh and get us some cocaine from Fiona's nightstand."

The supreme opens her mouth in protest, arms already in front of her ready to make any kind of dismissing gestures. Queenie grins at her anxiousness.

"It's for Papa Legba," the younger witch explains quickly "Last time he and I bonded over hot chocolate and marshmallows, but I know he prefers stronger stuff."

"I hoped we could avoid his involvement. He's known to be attached to the innocent souls under his spell"

"That's why we need him distracted while you try and talk to Misty. Snap her out of the loop, get her soul away from Papa Legba's little playroom. Let her spirit free to roam back to her swamp or wherever." She says moving her hand in the air.

Cordelia nods to herself and smiles, it's the first real smile Queenie sees on her face since the day she ascended to the throne. The vodoo girl knows what it means to lose someone without having any sense of closure. She experienced it when Marie went missing without leaving any clues as to her whereabouts; and she still tries to get in contact with Nan once in a while, she knows that Papa Legba wanted her by his side, but she still wishes that she could say goodbye to her, roll their eyes together at Madison's snotty attitude one last time.

So she steels herself for a date with the devil in order to grant her Supreme the chance to have her own closure.

Misty can feel her voice give out after the last string of _no_ she has chanted out loud trying to stop herself from piercing the frog once again. She finally remembers where this memory comes from, she even remembers the frog's name. She called him Mac after her favorite band. And that idiot Bobby Peterson had to go and tell the teacher. He died in a car accident right after graduation, the car exploded and they couldn’t even find enough pieces of him to fill the coffin; right now she regrets not having anything to do with it.

Misty closes her eyes and lets her life force flow into her hands and forward into the little creature's body. His legs reacting almost immediately turning himself on all fours ready to jump out of the way. She prays that this time it will escape, that it’ll take the leap and disappear under the table, away from her sharp knife and traitor hand. She needs someone, something to break this vicious circle for her, because she simply can’t find the strength in herself to do it.

“Freak!” a sob escapes her charred lips. (When will this torture be over? Why can’t they leave her alone? Don’t they have a personal hell they belong to?)

Misty can hear the stomping footsteps of the teacher reach her table, she’s prepared to hear his threatening voice, to feel the cold steel of the scalpel as it’s forced in her hand one more time, but as he starts speaking his voice sounds muffled, distant. Something is interfering with their little school play.

"Stronger intent!" it is a female voice, the tone stern but laced with an encouraging note. Misty knows that voice, she's heard it while laying in that coffin when she thought everything was lost. The voice that had promised her protection, a home. It was the voice of her tribe.

"Miss Cordelia?" she whispers looking across her stool, the rough voice of the teacher growing angrier by her side, but she ignores it, her eyes darting around the classroom trying to identify the direction of Cordelia’s voice.

"Intention!" the voice repeats but she has to strain to hear her above all the noise Mr. Kringley is doing. He has his clammy hand wrapped around her wrist, forcing a scalpel in her grasp. _'Intention'_ she mutters to herself remembering how Cordelia has taught her that a little more willpower is all she needs to surpass any obstacle. So she looks at the rapid breathing frog on the table, then at her hand and lets the scalpel clatter on the steel plate before turning around and punching Mr. Kringley square in the nose.

"Shut the fuck up!" she yells at the kneeling teacher before everything goes white and she cannot hear anything but the peaceful croaking of the frogs.

When she comes back Queenie is sitting at the table flipping through the pages of an old book, the pouch with Fiona's drugs is gone and Cordelia finds herself sighing in relief. At least she won’t have to worry to get rid of that piece of her mother’s inheritance anymore.

"So how did it go? Seeing how upset Papa Legba seemed when he left, I'd say it's gone great." The voodoo witch looks far too much comfortable for someone who just sat down with an evil spirit, yet Cordelia somehow admires her for her nonchalance.

"I've been able to break into her reality only for a few moments but she's definitely felt my presence." The Supreme then remembers the last moments of her vision and can hardly contain a giggle. "She socked the teacher square in the nose." She says almost proud of Misty proclivity for punching people in the face. She really whishes she could have seen the fist fight between Madison and Misty with her own eyes, it would have been glorious, one of her fondest memories.

"That girl can throw some serious punches when she's mad" Queenie comments sharing the blonde’s amusement.

"I think she's finally free, Queenie.” Cordelia is finally getting up from the floor, her hands smoothing out the creases on her white shirt. “I hope she's happy wherever she is now."

 _‘Even if I wish she could be here with us.’_ The Supreme confesses to herself, her hands tightening on a flowery pale pink shawl Misty has left behind. She wishes she could have spoken to Misty, apologized for having failed her. She wishes she could have told her how much she meant to her, how much she has inspired her, even if they’ve known each other for such a short time.

"If there is someone who deserves heaven it's Misty Day.” Queenie states “She's probably discussing resurrection techniques with Jesus Christ right now, or teaching him how to twirl in his robes."

Misty wakes up with a gasp, her grey eyes immediately focused on the crystal chandelier hanging from the living room ceiling. She’s back at the Academy, back in the mortal world, back with Zoe and Kyle and that bitch Madison, back at Cordelia’s side.

She cannot wait to see the older woman, she’s already decided that she’s gonna hug her so tight she’ll be left breathless. She’s still regretting not having crushed her in her arms that first time when she rescued her from being trapped in a coffin; she was too angry at Madison to even feel grateful towards Cordelia, but this time she’ll do things the right way.

Misty lets a big smile spread on her lips as she thinks of her garden in the swamp. She’s gonna take Cordelia to see it as soon as the sun’s up in the morning (if there is anyone who can appreciate her messy little piece of Eden, that’s Miss Cordelia). She hasn’t been back in a few days and the tomatoes are for sure in need of a good watering, the sunflowers’ seeds are probably ready for harvesting, too. And if any other plant is not doing well, there’s always the special mud-balm she and Cordelia have concocted in their last session together in the greenhouse.

Her planning gets suddenly interrupted by a shadow obscuring her vision. She’s taken aback when she recognizes Madison’s pale face above her own, a mischievous smirk plastered on her red lips and her dark eyes alight with a malicious glint.

“What are you smiling at, swamp rat?”


	2. Chapter 2

 

Madison must admit she is genuinely surprised when Misty Day appears in all her hippy glory on the carpet where her body has crumbled to ashes a few weeks before. The young movie star (ex movie star to be accurate) has been lounging on the living room couch, enjoying a quiet evening for once, when a magical shockwave exploded in the house, at its epicenter the newly reappeared form of the swamp ~~bitch~~ witch.

As she approaches the lying woman, Madison can see that Misty is awake, her lips turned up in a happy smile, eyes glistening with tears of joy. She also notices that there is no faint glow surrounding her body, which means Misty's dumb grin is totally out of place; because when you're a ghost (yeah, that's Madison Montgomery's newest role in this boring show called life) living people looks like human torches, pulsating with light like they swallowed a ton of uranium, and Misty's is definitely switched off.

_'I better give her the good news before she pisses herself from the excitement of being alive'_

Madison bends over Misty's body, her face mirroring Misty's upside down.

“What are you smiling at, swamp rat?” she grins wickedly when the young woman startles and almost knocks their heads together as she sits up.

"Where's Miss Cordelia?"

Of course the tree-hugger would ask for her BFF as soon as she opens her mouth. Madison regrets that she didn’t get to tease the two fools with inappropriate remarks and naughty suggestions about their reciprocal ladyboners, it would have been hilarious and it would have probably gotten her killed nonetheless.

"I don’t think she'll be able to see you right now" Madison replies nonchalantly and Misty almost tumbles over her as she quickly gets on her feet, her grey eyes wide with hurry.

"I _have_ to see her, I need to tell her it worked, that I'm back”

“Well sorry to be a debbie downer but you’re not really _back_. Your body turned to sparkling glitters on this very same spot after you totally failed at Descensum”

Madison watches amused as Misty's eyes regard her with suspicion before deciding (obviously, because nothing that comes out of dear Maddy's mouth is to be believed) that the younger witch is lying to her.

“You’re messin’ with me. I ain’t fallin’ for your tricks anymore, Hollywood.”

Oh, Madison missed that nickname, the place not so much.

“Don’t worry, having your spirit trapped in here isn’t so bad. There’s so much fresh meat to pull pranks on every day that it never gets boring.”

She's been messing with the underwear drawers of the girls sharing her old room, it's incredibly funny seeing their confused faces when they're in a hurry and cannot find a fitting pair of panties. And not to mention the asinine fights that follow.

“If I'm dead how come you can see me?”

“’cause I'm dead too, genius. That dumb frankenboy choked me to death. He was lucky I was a little low on my magical juices or I’d have his head reattached to a llama’s body this time around.”

“This ain’t right. Only cursed spirits can walk the earth after their bodies die.” Misty is frantically trying to press the piano keys, to prove to herself that she is not a ghost, but her finger keeps passing right through them, and Madison feels a sliver of pity for her.

"Color me surprised, gator girl. It’s a house full of witches, what’s a ghost or two running around."

Make it three now; even if Spalding spends all day up in the attic playing tea party make-believe with her rotting corpse and his collection of creepy dolls(one of them is so well done it looks like a real baby, with caramel skin and coffee eyes).

“Cordelia is gonna see something’s not right in the house. She’s gonna release us from here.”

“Your precious Cordy is too busy running this place to notice I’m rotting in the attic, so I wouldn’t get my hopes up that she’ll notice your ghost creepily watching her in her sleep.”

Madison has actually tried to stay off the radar and avoid her former teacher and roommates. Somehow she prefers them to believe she's off in Tahiti (she's heard it's a magical place) or something, enjoying a drink and a full body massage.

“Then we’re gonna make her see.” Misty is so resolute in her intent that Madison almost envies her. She's never been so attached to her life, she cannot see herself fight to get back among the living. Misty's aching to be back with the breathing, sweating masses maybe it's simply a professional bias. Madison surely isn't going to meddle with her quest, so the least she can do is wish her luck.

“Good luck with that.”

Cordelia is working in her greenhouse making a herbal balm for a girl who got a terrible cough, Misty’s yellow 8-track player is providing the musical background in the form of Stevie Nicks’song _Kind of Woman_. It is the song that Misty was listening to when they first worked together in this room, and Cordelia has grown fond of it since then, it gives her the illusion of having the younger witch by her side, eager to learn new incantations and plants’ properties.

Being the Supreme has been quite stressful lately, between managing the school’s new students and the press pestering her every time she leaves the Academy, sometimes she craves the normalcy of her old life. Her council has been of great help, but she misses having someone she could lean on, someone with whom she could truly be herself, without having to act as a stern and composed headmistress, or put on the self confident mask she has to wear as the Supreme.

For the past six years she had Hank; he was an escape from her mother, she married him to spite her, and he always acted as the most supportive husband, they hardly fought and sometimes Cordelia found this particular trait of his character a little cowardly. Now she knows it was all an act to assure she wouldn’t leave him and thus abort his mission.

Aunty Myrtle took care of her when she was younger, and she had tried to be the mother Cordelia wanted, to the point that sometimes she felt smothered by her over-protectiveness. But with Misty Day she had found a kindred spirit, the friend she wished she could have had when she first entered the Academy. They were equals.

The Cajun witch had woken Cordelia’s long forgotten fun side, made her remember how much she liked getting her hands dirty with damp humus and her nostrils inebriated with the scent of freshly ground leaves. For a long time Cordelia had resorted to test-tubes and beakers to make her potions, almost like she was in a sterile pharmaceutical lab, but Misty made her remember that it didn’t have to be necessary like that, working with living things could be messy and stinky, too.

A screeching noise interrupts her train of thoughts and Cordelia runs over to the 8track player to see what's causing the malfunction, it's the only thing of Misty's that still speaks to Cordelia, and she'll be damned if she lets it fall to pieces. She picks up the yellow contraption, a relic from the 70s, and inspects the tape inside. It's still circling slowly, only the music comes out distorted like when changing channels on an old radio. Cordelia gives it a careful hit on the front and suddenly it starts up again. But the song that start playing is not on the tape. It's a song she’s heard for the first time through Misty's own voice, the song that brought her to the place where her friend had been buried alive.

_So, take my love, take it down_

_Oh climb a mountain and turn around_

_If you see my reflection in the snow covered hills_

_Well the landslide will bring you down, down…_

Cordelia lets the lyrics resonate in her mind, if she closes her eyes she can still hear Misty's broken voice whisper the words in the dark confined space inside the coffin. She can remember the hope filling her heart at the prospect of seeing her again, alive and well, the relief of not having to mourn the loss of the only person in a long time that made her feel cherished.

Cordelia plucks a plump berry from the plant she and Misty have revived, she lets her fingers polish it’s surface before bringing it to her mouth. As the fruit’s juices flows on her tongue she wishes Misty could be there by her side making scrunchy faces at the bitter taste of the red berry in their mouth. Her dark eyes unable to see the blonde ghost smiling longingly from her perch next to the yellow player.

Misty is hovering over an empty pot, her hand posed to throw the item on the floor but as she makes the move, her fingers pass right through the material and the pot stays where it is. She’s been trying to interact with solid items for a week now, but to no avail. She’s managed to interfere with the radio and the TV quite successfully, she can change channels and even conjure up songs but she’s incapable of even moving a leaf on a plant.

“You're not going to get that vase on the floor unless it gets suicidal.”

Madison’s mocking voice ruins her concentration and she turns to glare at her. The young witch has done nothing but bother her since Misty's spirit has been brought back, when she loses interest in pestering the other inhabitants of the house she comes straight to Misty, disrupting her concentration with talks about her glorious career and boytoys. Today Misty isn't in the mood for one of Madison's monologues, she needs help; and even if she'd rather chop her own fingers off than ask the little shit for a favor, she swallows her pride and speaks.

“Then show me how you do it. I’ve seen the way you torment the girls staying in your old room.”

“You’re delusional. Why would I help you?” Madison's arrogant reply is what makes Misty finally blow her fuse.

“cause I saved you and you owe me, rich bitch!” The swamp witch strides over the shorter blonde and grips her throat, her palm fitting just above the thin red scar, her knuckles becoming white with how tight she's clutching her fingers. Madison's hazel eyes widen with the sudden aggression, but it's just a moment before she starts laughing hysterically. (Misty wants to punch her in the face all over again.)

"Oh, I love it when you get rough, babe" Madison's speaks in a throaty voice that oozes sex and lets her small hands smooth over Misty's forearms, starting from her elbows down to the wrists locked under her chin. The older girl release her grip and shakes off the offending hands taking a few steps back. She looks down at her hands, partly ashamed at her violent action, partly amazed at the ice cold sensation on her fingers. It feels just like when she touched Madison's corpse in this same room not too long ago; the same cold stiff sensation on her warm skin.

"C'mon don’t get all sulky now. I came here to offer you a deal."

"I ain't makin' deals with people who threw me into an open coffin and left me to die. Besides you just said you ain't gonna help me. So go bother someone else"

"Not my fault if you're so gullible" Misty turns around and head to the door deciding that if Madison isn't gonna leave her alone than she'd better leave the room.

"Wait." Madison voice interrupts her, this time she sounds serious, "listen, I just want it to be over. I've been killed two times in a matter of months, it's pretty clear I'm not wanted here. I'll try to get your precious Miss Cordelia's attention, and hopefully she'll get you out of here."

"And then what? You want me to bring you back again?" the swamp witch is standing still on the doorway, her back to Madison and her grey eyes fixed straight ahead. She's tired of playing games today, but she'll listen to the other girl as long as there's a possibility for them to finally work together.

"Are you deaf? I told you I'm done with life. I need you to get my body out of this house and burn it down to ashes. Do whatever you want with them, just don’t get _me_ back into this madhouse."

"You sure about it?" Misty faces her then, she can clearly see the resignation, the sadness etched in Madison's expression.

"I'm not a good person, Misty. I probably got a place in hell all for me. But even getting to play a second role in the Sound of Music for all eternity is better than watching the two people you tried to love be happier without you"

Misty doesn’t know what the Sound of Music is, or why it merits to stage Madison's Hell, but it is obvious that for once the shorter blonde is being honest; she's not so good an actress as to fake the emotion behind her words or the thin veil of tears moistening her eyes. So she nods to her in agreement and leaves the room to give her some space.

Cordelia is lying in her bed, the only sound in the room being the quiet purring of her black cat as he lies on the empty pillow next to hers. She hoped that after helping Misty out of Hell she might be able to get some sleep, but it seems she was once again wrong in her assumptions.

The Supreme cannot stop thinking about that strange interference on the radio earlier in the week. Maybe Misty's spirit couldn’t move past this life and it's still trapped in some other dimension, just like the Axeman was trapped for decades in the house. She wants to speak to her council about it, ask Zoe how she communicated with the murderer that first time, but before exposing herself to ridiculous she must be sure about it not being her mind playing tricks on her.

After all they live in a house full of witches and the magical balance between them is still highly unstable so it could have been a banal interference, like when you get a phone text and the stereo buzzes along with it.

_That doesn’t explain the song that came up tough. Only Misty and I know what she was singing inside that grave._

Maybe it is Misty’s way to let her know that somehow she is trapped again and she needs her help. So Cordelia decides to wait and see if there are other clear signs of the swamp witch's presence in the house before she starts looking for a way to get her back. 

Working by Cordelia's side, Misty had felt a sense of belonging for the first time since her powers had started to manifest. Her family was ashamed of her, her friends had shunned her and her community had dragged her on the ground like a wild animal, chained her to the carcass of an old truck and drenched her in fuel before burning her alive.

Misty remembers that when she first met Zoe she believed she finally found her place in the world, someone she could relate to, someone who could be her sister, but the teen never truly cared for her, she was only interested in her magic, in what it could do. Her power, the power of Resurgence, as Zoe had called it with wonder in her voice, was the real reason behind every visit she received by the younger witch. First to fix her mess with Kyle and then to bring back that self-centered bitch Madison.

Myrtle looked at her like she was her personal Jesus, always ready to sing her praises, a prophet so convinced in Misty's destiny as the next Supreme that she had drove her right into martyrdom for a cause that wasn’t her own.

The other members of the coven either wanted her dead or wanted nothing to do with her. Sure, Fiona had gifted her with a visit from Stevie, but she didn’t do it out of the goodness of her heart, the late Supreme only wanted to get in her good graces before going in for the kill. She wanted to get her guard down to strike when she least expected it.

Cordelia was the only one who had asked nothing of her, she offered her a home when she needed it, no question asked, she opened the doors to the greenhouse, her sanctuary, selflessly. She shared with Misty her knowledge, she was a friend when she needed one the most. Cordelia sacrificed her own eyes to find her when she had been trapped into a coffin to die alone and hopeless. Nobody had ever done something like that for Misty Day.

If there is a thing Misty regrets most about her short life, it is not having met Cordelia sooner. Misty has been carving for a tribe her whole life, and now she's sure that Cordelia was it. They would have fit perfectly together, the two of them with their potions and plants, Stevie singing in the background (Cordelia had smiled and told her it was some lovely music) and the smell of fresh leaves around them.

So Misty finds herself spending a lot of time around the older woman, now. Her ability to interact with the mortal world is still erratic, but if she tries hard enough she can brush her fingers along Cordelia's forearm as she sits writing at her desk, the fine hairs rising up in response to her invisible touch. Sometimes Misty sits on the armchair, feet on the coffee table, and watches as the other woman relaxes with a book on the couch. Cordelia wears glasses when she's reading and she's the cutest thing Misty has ever seen.

She's sure that Mr. Spooky, Cordelia's black cat, is aware of her presence; occasionally he stands in front of her and mews as if to ask for a scratch under the chin. Cordelia speaks to him in hushed tones and he trots back to sit at her side on the soft cushions, but his yellow eyes remains fixed on her ghostly form.

"You are one lucky kitty, Mr. Spooky." She tells him one evening, a sad smile gracing her thin lips. He looks at her and does a little trilling sound almost acknowledging her statement. Cordelia looks up from her book and raises a brow in his direction.

"Who are you talking to, munchkin?"

Misty stares fascinated as the black feline jumps down from the couch and goes to curl up on one of her shawls that is laying carelessly on the piano stool (it's the blue one she had on the day she met Stevie, swiftly discarded as she was gifted one form the White Witch herself). The sound of Cordelia sitting up startles her and she stands up too, hope burning in her chest.

"What is it, Spooky? Can you feel her? Is she here with us?" Cordelia is now crouching next to the pet, one hand pressing the open book to her tight, the other gently caressing his short dark fur. The cat sighs loudly his little head coming to lay on his front paws, oblivious to his human's worries, he closes his yellow eyes and falls asleep.

"Misty?" the Supreme turns around, her chocolate eyes scanning the room for a sign that she's not alone, and Misty wants so bad to let her know that she's there, that she's been with her for weeks now, just not in the same plane of existence.

"Misty please, if you're here do something. Was it you the other day? In the greenhouse messing with Stevie's record?" Misty curses herself for being so weak, for being such a failure that she can't even move a freaking vase on the fireplace to let her friend know she's there. That she needs her to save her once more from being trapped.

"Oh goddess. Here I am talking to myself like an idiot." Cordelia presses a hand to her forehead and Misty lets her tears fall, frustration clawing at her insides. And anger, so much anger for trusting Madison and her promise to help her in exchange for eternal rest.

When she's collapsed on the chair, pale eyes fixed on Cordelia's vacant stare, a melody starts playing from the piano. Misty could recognize that intro in a million, it's the first notes of _Rhiannon_ , just like Stevie had played it when she visited the Academy. Misty can see the keys moving on the piano, but no one is sitting at the stool apart from the sleeping cat, and it sure isn't her magic because she doesn’t know squat about making music.

"I kept my side of the deal. It's up to you now." Madison appears out of thin air on the stool, she's concentrating on the music and doesn’t turn to look Misty in the eyes even as the older girl whispers a thank-you in her direction.

Misty relaxes on the chair, and closes her eyelids, letting the sound of Cordelia's relieved laughter soothe her soul amidst the notes of her favorite song.

Zoe enters the headmistress' office after a soft knock, she knows Cordelia is waiting for her and she suspects the reason why she was summoned to her office. Kyle had told her that something had changed into the house, the balance of forces has shifted inside the academy and it all started when Queenie and Cordelia had performed Descensum together to try and help Misty Day.

"I don’t know how they could accommodate 60 witches in this house in the 1890. I can barely fit 30 girls." Cordelia mutters glaring at what looks like a planimetry of the Academy.

"Kyle and I could room with Queenie until the movers finish with the new house." Zoe suggests. Of course it would take some adjusting but this problems seem futile opposed to what they had to do to survive in the first few months she's came living in this place.

"No no, the council members need to be treated as is expected of their position or else you'll lose credit in the eyes of the other girls. You're the same age but your powers and the sacrifices you had to make to arrive where you are must not be forgotten. You keep your rooms, I'll call a meeting tomorrow morning and deal with all those petty requests at once."

Zoe smiles at Cordelia's easy dismissal, she knows how the Supreme secretly enjoys those gathering in the living room. It must be exhilarating for her seeing all those young people, where for years there was only her and the house staff.

"All right. So what did you want to see me for?"

"I need you to point me to the incantation you used to release the Axeman. He was a ghost, an insubstantial entity, yet you did something that gave him back his mortal body, flesh and bones. I've never seen anything like it."

"It was in a book down in the library. Queenie and Nan helped with the chanting, we didn’t do anything else."

The request doesn’t surprise Zoe, but it confirms her suspicion that Cordelia is still not over losing Misty. She vividly remembers the headmistress desperate sobs as the swamp witch body dissolved into her embrace. Zoe was sitting on the carpet near her as she cradled Misty's unmoving body to her chest, whispering encouragements in her ears.

"Is it for Misty?"

"Yes, I think her spirit is trapped in the house. When she got out of Hell, she no longer had a body to accommodate her soul, and she is now lingering between the afterlife and our mortal realm. Maybe we can bring her back in the mortal coil with that spell."

"You're sure it's her? I still have the talking board I used to speak with the Axeman. I can bring it down if you'd like to give it a go. Just so we don’t free another serial killer in the house." Zoe almost feels ashamed for asking but she is worried for Cordelia's sanity if it turns out it's just a scam.

"That would be wonderful, thank you. But I'm quite confident it's her."

"Okay. I'll leave the book and the Ouija by your room after dinner."

"Thank you, Zoe"

Zoe is about to leave the office, but she stops with her hand on the doorknob. She turns back, the Supreme regarding her with a questioning look. The young witch feels the need to come clean about her disregard toward Misty, she's been feeling guilty about involving her in their mess of a Coven for awhile now, but she's never found the courage to admit it to someone.

"I really hope you'll get her back, Cordelia. She's helped me so much and I let her down so many times. When she needed a friend I ran away without even saying goodbye."

"It was a difficult moment for all of us."

"No, it was just me being selfish." She declares looking straight into Cordelia's eyes, almost daring her to justify her again.

"You know, once she told me that she was looking for her tribe, I didn't deserve to be part of it, but I think she found it with you."

As she leaves the room, Zoe can spy a shy little smile on Cordelia's lips, and it makes her heart flutter. She really hopes her friends find one another again, they both deserve so much happiness in their lives.

Misty has been pacing back and forth along the living room for hours now. She still cannot fully grasp the concept of time in this dimension, sometimes she goes into a state of stasis in which she’s aware only of herself; the room, the people in it disappear and she finds herself standing there half conscious. Other times she’s overwhelmed by the other reality, the students at Robicheaux chatting in the hallways, having a snack in the kitchen, sometimes she spies a tall man with long greasy hair watching her, he’s kind of creepy and she still hasn’t understood if he’s a ghost like herself or just a weird butler.

Today she’s particularly aware of the passing hours, she’s been waiting for Cordelia to try that incantation she’s talked about since the spirit board fiasco. The older witch tried to contact her directly last night but without Madison’s help she’s been helpless to move the glass and Cordelia’s questions had gone unanswered. Her friend however spoke aloud about an incantation that should release Misty's spirit into the mortal coil and restore her body.

And that’s why Misty has been restless for the whole day. She cannot wait to get back into a body that can actually feel. She misses the damp sticky sensation of the humid swamp air on her skin, the sun burning on her head, even the weight of the rings on her fingers has become foreign to her in this incorporeal form. She really wishes Cordelia can make it happen, because she is so sick of being stuck in closed spaces, she's so tired of the cold sensation deep in her guts.

"Misty? Are you here?" It's Zoe's voice that calls her, she hasn’t heard or seen the younger girl since the day of the Seven Wonders, she hasn’t even tried to contact her in this form.

"Don’t' worry, Zoe. It'll work even if she's somewhere else in the house." Cordelia is now standing in the living room, she's dressed in a pair of leggings and a white woolen cardigan that covers half her thighs. It's her after dinner attire, which means it's past ten o'clock and the students are in their rooms.

"Ok, so we just gotta hold hands and read this spell like last time, right?" the third voice comes from Queenie, she's shuffling through the pages of a leather bound book. Its pages are of a deep yellow and it's written in Latin. She stops on a page and flips the book over to Cordelia, on the pages there is a spell and a picture representing a spirit leaving a dead body. It seems quite sinister and Misty hopes they know what they're doing.

"This is it, thank you Queenie. Now give me your hands and we can start."

The three witches create a circle with their joined hands above the table were the open book lays. Misty watches captivated as they close their eyes in synchrony, she thinks she can almost feel the pure power radiating from their joined magic.

_"Solvo liberatus spirito malus nequam pessimus peior. Cantum sufficare. Non levis usus mitte illuc ubi mali spiritus sunt. Mortem cadaver putridum repraesentatur imperator requirit a choro"._

Misty cannot hear the rest of the words as she feels a burning sensation starting in her belly and spreading slowly in the rest of her torso, her legs and arms. It goes up in her throat and for a moment she feels like she's suffocating, like when she was burning in flames and the smoke filled her lungs choking the life out of her. But this time she doesn’t stop breathing and when she opens her eyes she finds three people staring at her bewildered.

Misty doesn’t have the time to speak as she is engulfed into Cordelia's warm embrace, her legs feels like jelly so she falls into her friend's smaller body with ease. Misty is so grateful to be able to finally touch someone that she sinks her fingers into Cordelia's back and inhales her delicate jasmine perfume (the scent gives Misty a feeling of déjà vu, she cannot remember ever being in Cordelia's arms before, but her body clearly does). And when finally Cordelia whispers against her hair, her hot breath caressing Misty's ear, the swamp witch crumbles into her arms, just this time it's not in the literal sense.

"Welcome back, Misty"

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for any mistakes you've encountered (apart from the ones in Misty's lines- those are her own doing), it's been a while since I wrote anything worth posting and I'm still a bit rusty. Also I don't have a beta right now, but I'd be grateful to any charitable soul out there who could help. If you have any suggestion on how to improve this fic be my guest in the comments section, all feedback is greatly appreciated and repaid with a virtual box full of kittens.


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